


you can sit beside me when the world comes down

by ScreechTheMighty



Series: let's be alone together [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Dates, F/M, Not Beta Read, Rated for swearing, Slice of Life, Tags to be added as fic progresses, but will integrate both themes and plot elements, matt is a nerd and jessica is mad she's kind of into it, may integrate themes/ideas from that season though just not plot elements, not Defenders compliant, not jj s2 compliant, will likely make minor changes as the fic progresses/I notice grammatical errors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreechTheMighty/pseuds/ScreechTheMighty
Summary: If it doesn't matter, then just turn aroundYou be the queen, and I'll be your clownYou can sit beside me when the world comes downAKA the one where you decide to give it a shot with the unlikeliest of dates.





	1. Side A, Track 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So. Seeing how this is roughly a month and a half later than I said I'd release it, I think I owe y'all an explanation.
> 
> There's really three reasons for the (very) late release. One: I bit off more than I could chew and overestimated my ability to finish up the first chapter by the designated release date. Part of it was done, but there were still a few sub-sections that needed finishing and I just wasn't able to tackle them in time. Two: I had a lot of other writing projects that I was falling behind on that I had to get done close to the deadline, which cut into my fanfiction writing time. Three, and most challenging: my brain is absolutely fickle as fuck and decided to hyperfixate on _literally anything but the fic I was supposed to be working on_ (mostly Titanfall 2, which is a great game btw. You should play it). So, even with the release of Jessica Jones s2 (which I personally liked), I wasn't able to get back into the headspace of writing this. So, the deadline passed, and I got too anxious to admit to what happened so I just kind of...didn't say anything. I'm really sorry about that, for the record. It wasn't fair of me to leave you guys hanging like that.
> 
> The good news is that I _do_ have some stuff written, but I'm going to have to break from the tradition of the last fic and post the individual "sub chapters" instead of the full chapters like I did last time. I'll probably re-format and combine everything to look like the first fic once I'm done _writing_ everything, but for now I'm going to post as I go. I can't promise a regular update schedule with my brain being what it is, but I can promise I won't abandon this one. Also, as the tags say, this fic won't be Jessica Jones s2 compliant _solely_ because I already had everything planned out before that season hit and I'm too lazy/stubborn to change it. Some thematic elements will definitely come up, though.
> 
> Again, sorry about the radio silence and broken deadline! I hope what I do release makes up for it.

_So we never actually discussed what day we were going to get that drink_

Jessica stared at the new text. Fucking hell. He was right. _Fuck_. Had they really just spent that entire train ride the day before grinning at each other and _not_ discuss when they were going to go out for drinks? She expected that kind of shit from Matt, but damn it, she was _better_ than that. She knew how to make a plan. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Matt Murdock. That was what was wrong with her. He’d somehow wormed his way into her mind and then had the balls to ask her out to drinks. Fuck. She’d agreed to it, sure, she was kind of relieved that he’d asked _her_ instead of letting her stew in her emotions and then either never ask him or ask him badly. But seriously, how had they _not_ actually set up a _date?_ “ _God_ ,” she muttered before typing out her response. _i mean im good whenever. you_

_Is Saturday okay,_ came Matt’s response. Jessica wondered where he was texting her. He had to talk into his phone to get the texts sent—if he was doing this in the office, Foggy might overhear. Jessica, frankly, didn’t give a shit about Foggy knowing in _theory_. In practice, she knew that it might lead to a barrage of questions towards either her or Matt. She couldn’t decide which was worse, being annoyed personally by Franklin Nelson, or having Matt spill his guts to his best friend and probably frame the whole thing like it was a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just drinks.

That was it.

_sure. text me when ur off work_ , she typed out.

_Will do. See you then,_ Matt responded almost immediately. Jessica got the feeling he would’ve slapped a smiley face emoji on the end of that if he could figure out how to make his voice-to-text do emojis (did voice to text do emojis? She’d have to ask him later). It was that kind of text.

The good news was, since this wasn’t a big deal, she didn’t have to dress up too much come Saturday. She did make sure her jeans weren’t too torn up and that her sweater (one of the knit ones, not a hoodie) was clean, and that her makeup was freshly applied and not a bit smudged from her sleeping in it. _Great first date look: bare minimum effort._

Whatever. She didn’t smell like ass, and she got the feeling that mattered to Matt more than how she looked. Especially for just drinks at what she was _sure_ was going to be a dive bar. She’d never heard Matt talk about going to any bar other than Josie’s and Josie’s was…yeah, Josie’s was pretty terrible.

“So,” Matt said when she met him outside his office. Jessica was relieved to see that he hadn’t dressed up any more than usual for work. She’d never seen that tie before, but a quick look confirmed it wasn’t _new._ Just new to her. “Uhm…listen, I’ll be totally honest with you, I’ve been drinking at the same place since college, so I’m not…really familiar with anywhere but Josie’s? If there’s anywhere else you want to go, I’ll go…”

He said that like Jessica knew anywhere better. Sure, she knew a few places, but most of them weren’t any better than Josie’s, one had been pretty banged up during the earthquake, and the ones that weren’t trash weren’t in Hell’s Kitchen. It wasn’t laziness that made her want to keep this whole thing low effort. Low effort meant casual, low expectations, _not_ making a huge deal out of it. That was what she wanted. Casual.

“Nah, Josie’s is fine.” It was more Matt’s territory than hers on paper, but in practice, Jessica felt like she could handle it. That kind of dump wasn’t too difficult to figure out. It was good middle ground.

It wasn’t too crowded when they stepped inside. Jessica recognized a few of the guys from the night she’d run into Matt at Josie’s after his conversation with Foggy. They must’ve been regulars—the sort of guys who showed up regardless of what day of the week it was. Most of them were even sitting in the same seat. “So, how’d you find this place?” Jessica asked as she and Matt walked to the bar.

“Short version? My dad was friends with the owner back in the day. I hunted the place down once I could drink, I brought Foggy, we ended up helping her out with the lien, and now…” Matt smiled. “It’s like home. A weird second home for my inner alcoholic, but home.” He leaned against the bar. Josie glanced his way, but didn’t seem in any particular hurry to come over. “Word of advice? Don’t drink any water that isn’t bottled. Ever. Or have anything with olives in it.”

“Good to know.” Despite his warnings, Jessica was still pretty sure she’d been to worse places. “Are you _okay_ to drink?”

“Honestly, I was deciding if it would be weird if I got ginger ale.”

“Get whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care.” She was best friends with a recovering alcoholic. It was no skin off her back if Matt or anyone else didn’t want to drink.

Josie finally walked over. She gave the two of them a look that could only be described as suspicious. “Murdock,” she said.

“Josie,” Matt replied cheerfully. “Ginger ale for me, and whatever the lady is having.”

From the look on Josie’s face, Matt had just confirmed her suspicions. She didn’t say anything about it, though, just gave Jessica a quick once-over. It didn’t look approving, but one, Jessica didn’t fucking care, two, Josie didn’t look like the kind of woman who approved of anything. “Whiskey,” Jessica replied. “Neat.”

“You’ve got it.” Josie shot Matt another quick look. That was when Jessica realized that Josie might damn well be disappointed, but not in Jessica. It looked like she was disappointed in _Matt_. That was a _why would you bring her here_ kind of look. It became more obvious when Josie came back with their drinks. “You know, there are other bars in this city, right?” she said to Matt.

“Yeah, but none of them have you,” Matt replied, still all charming smiles.

“ _Christ,_ you’re worse than your father.” Josie glanced at Jessica. “Be careful with him. He’s nothing but trouble.”

_Lady, you have no fucking idea._

“She seemed nice,” Jessica remarked dryly as they made their way to a table.

Matt laughed. “That actually is her being nice,” he admitted. “Trust me, you’d _know_ if she didn’t like you.”

“Spit in your drink kind of lady?”

“More like a _good luck ever getting service here_ kind of lady. Or getting anything that isn’t the bottom shelf stuff.” Matt shrugged off his blazer as he sat down, draping it over the back of his chair and rolling up his sleeves. “How was your day?”

Jessica shrugged. “I slept in and spent most of the day hunting people down on twitter. Word of advice, don’t make yourself searchable by your email address on social media.”

“Lucky me, I’m not on social media.”

“Also a good plan. How about you? Get punched again today?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure at least one person wanted to. I guess I’m annoying.” He sipped his ginger ale, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Who knew, right?”

She snorted. The whiskey in her glass tasted only marginally better than the stuff she bought herself, but this wasn’t a place you came to for fancy alcohol. “Trish keeps getting on my ass to fix the door.”

“What happened to it now?”

“I don’t fucking know. I think something’s wrong with the hinges still. I didn’t have to throw anyone through the window if that’s what you’re asking.”

“…not…exactly, but okay, good to know.” Matt looked taken aback. It was such a weird reaction to the situation, seeing how he had gotten beaten up in his own office fairly recently and spent his free nights throwing other people out other windows. “Does that happen often?”

“People aren’t always happy with my results. It’s easier to take it out on me than the person cheating on them.” The urge to drain her glass flared up, but Jessica made herself drink slowly. She was going out with someone, not her trying to drink herself into oblivion. “I can handle myself.”

“No, I know you can. Just…” Matt’s fingers drummed against the side of his glass. “That doesn’t get…stressful?”

“What, people being assholes?”

“People being assholes to you in your own house. I guess I’ve just…” He stopped again. Jessica could just see his eyes darting back and forth behind his sunglasses, as though he were reading over different versions of what he could say next and trying to pick the right one. He did that a lot. It was best to let him figure out what he wanted to say, Jessica had learned. He’d talk eventually. “I’ve had a lot of shit happen and one of the worst outcomes is not feeling safe in my own apartment. I hate it. I don’t like thinking that you’d feel the same way. You know what I mean?”

She did. She also had re-set her brain at some point to believe that nowhere was safe, no matter how secret you kept it or how many locks you had on your door. But she had a feeling she shouldn’t say that to Matt. With his head being what it was, she might set him back recovery-wise or make him all mopey. Neither option seemed great. “Yeah, I get what you mean. It’s fine. It’s not like they’re beating me up in the parts where I actually live. Front’s just an office.”

“Hmm.” Matt took a long sip from his ginger ale. “So, uh…bringing the mood back up, but do you know how to play pool?”

“I haven’t played since college, but I think I remember. Why?”

“Because they should be done over there in…” Matt’s fingers brushed against his wrist watch. “…five minutes? If you want to play.”

Damn, he really did come here a lot. “Sure. Just promise you won’t go easy on me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They waited until the other guys cleared out before making a move on the pool table. Matt got the balls set up while Jessica went to get them another round. Josie didn’t say anything to her; apparently she’d said her piece when she’d warned Jessica about Matt being trouble. For a second, Jessica wondered what kind of person Matt’s dad was that he was apparently friends with the heavy-set tattooed woman behind the bar.

Had Matt talked about his dad before this? She didn’t think he had. She’d dug up info on his dad, sure, but he hadn’t given her anything else to supplement or contradict what she’d found. Maybe he figured she’d worked out everything, or maybe he didn’t want to talk about it. All she knew for sure was she’d be pissed at him if he started asking questions about her backstory, so she figured she should keep her questions to herself. _Golden rule or what the fuck ever._

“You know, this place was my office for a bit after the firm broke up?” Matt said as she walked back over.

Jessica’s eyebrows shot up as she passed Matt his glass. “You worked out of Josie’s?”

“Yeah. I’d play pool and wait for people to come to me for help.”

“That worked?”

“People came in all the time once they knew where to find me.” He passed Jessica a pool cue. “Sometimes I miss just focusing on the pro bono work, but…I also like being able to pay rent.”

“Don’t we all. Loser buys drinks?”

Matt’s head tilted slightly as he smiled at her. “I was going to offer to pay. You don’t have to beat me at pool to get out of it.”

“It’s more fun this way.”

“All right, then, you’re on.”

It didn’t take Jessica long to get back into the swing of playing. It wasn’t long after that she realized Matt was showing off a little bit. Not too flashy, but definitely showing off. “You know, you don’t have to impress me,” Jessica said as she lined up her next shot.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Matt replied, all innocent smiles. He had the worst innocent face and voice she’d seen, and she’d seen some bad ones. “I always play like this.”

“That I actually _do_ buy.” Matt Murdock, it seemed, was incapable of doing anything unless he did it as dramatically as possible. “So when I win…”

“If you win.”

“When I win, you won’t mind if I go back for thirds, right?” She took another shot, sending one ball sliding neatly into the pocket. _Score_. “Because I’m kind of feeling thirds.”

“Hey, as long as you’re capable of walking home…” She thought she saw him hesitate, but whatever thought he had, he kept it to himself. “You’re an aggressively strategic player.”

Jessica shrugged. “I like to think I’m strategic in general.”

“That’s true. You are.” Matt took his shot; the ball bounced off the edge of the hole, drifting lazily back onto the table. “Ah, _shit_.”

“Swear jar.”

“Do not start with me, Jessica Jones.” Matt nudged her gently with his stick. “Quick refresher. Where is everything?”

“Uhm…” She stood next to Matt, looking a the balls carefully. “Cue’s at about…two o’clock, near the corner. Stripes at eight, noon and 12:30. Solids at…ten, eleven, right along the edge closest to you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She was kind of impressed; Matt had only asked her for a reminder where the balls were twice the whole game, and so far he hadn’t sunk any of her balls on accident. “Was how to keep track of pool balls part of your ninja training, or did you learn that on your own?” she asked as she lined up her next shot.

Matt laughed. “Learning how to track things, keep my focus boosted, that was part of it. Applying that to pool…”

“That was just the logical thing to do.”

“Exactly. How else was I supposed to win drinking money during college?”

“You too, huh?” Jessica grinned as her shot went according to plan. “How did that go for you?”

“Better than it’s going now.”

Matt got more careful after that, less showy. But unfortunately for him…

“ _Hah!_ ”

Too little, too late. _Jessica Jones comes out on top._

“Best two out of three?” Matt said almost immediately.

“That was _not_ our agreement, counselor.” She wouldn’t feel bad about giving him a hard time, but she felt even less bad when she got a good look at his face—smiling in a teasing way, clearly not serious. “You want a refill, too?”

“Yeah, hit me.” He passed her his glass. “You sure you’re going to be okay with thirds?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

And she was. She was actually better than she thought she’d be, and the alcohol had nothing to do with it. This was…actually kind of okay. _Fuck me, then_.

“Just put it on Murdock’s tab,” Jessica said as she set the glasses down at the bar. Josie’s only response was to point at a handwritten sign behind the bar. _Card or cash only. No tabs._ “Okay, noted.” _I don’t know why I expected anything else_.

Matt was deep in conversation with someone by the time Jessica got back. “…going to have to provide proof of income,” Matt was saying. “And residence. Hey, I’ve got a pretty open schedule, on…Thursday, I think? Call the office tomorrow and I’ll put you down for a consultation.” The guy Matt was talking to—young, scraggly-looking but earnest—nodded. “Chin up, yeah? We’ll figure this out.”

“Okay. Thank you.” The guy caught a glimpse of Jessica as he turned to leave. His eyes darted between her, the two glasses she held, and back to Matt. “Are you on a date?”

“ _Goodnight,_ Doug.”

“Doug” smiled brightly, both at Matt and Jessica, before walking off. “What was _that?_ ” Jessica asked.

“Client. He’s…” Jessica gently nudged Matt arm with his glass. “Thank you. He’s a good guy, really.” Matt took the glass carefully. “Just trying to get by like the rest of us.”

_Isn’t that the truth?_

“…can I do two out of three for bragging rights?” Matt asked suddenly.

Jessica rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Fine. Two out of three for bragging rights. But you’re still paying.”

Matt took the second game. Turned out he was a better player when he wasn’t so focused on showing off. That felt symbolic of his entire life. Third game was a lot closer, but Jessica ended up winning by a lucky shot. Lucky as in _she wasn’t even sure she’d make it lucky_. Matt didn’t seem to mind. “ _Jesus_. Taken down in my own turf.” He drained the last of his ginger ale and grimaced. It had probably gone flat. They’d gotten too focused on their game to really pay attention to drinks. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Not a chance.” Jessica drained her glass, too. “Better luck next time, Murdock.”

“So you’re saying there’s going to be a next time?”

Jessica thought about it. This time hadn’t been… _terrible_. There was nothing too involved. If they could keep it going like this, just drinks and pool…

“Sure. If you’re still buying.”

Matt grinned crookedly. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Jessica Jones.” His fingers wandered to his wrist, brushing over the clock. “Ah…shit, I should head out…”

“Big day tomorrow?”

“If by _big_ you mean _a lot of busy work_ , absolutely.” He sighed and leaned his stick back against the wall. “Lot of research and debating the exact wording of legal terms. You want me to walk you home?”

She’d guessed he would make that offer. It seemed like the kind of thing Matt Murdock would do. “Nah, I’m good. You head home and sleep.”

Matt didn’t press the matter. He only followed her as far as the door, taking a short detour to pay for their drinks. Jessica wasn’t sure what he’d do once they stepped outside. The _walking her home_ part had been easy to guess. Beyond that…

“Hey, Jessica?”

He was smiling when she looked at him—that weird, soft smile he got sometimes when he looked at her. When he talked about certain people. “I had a really good time,” he said.

That was it. He didn’t step closer, didn’t try to take her hand or kiss her. He just smiled that stupid smile and was honest with her.

“Yeah,” Jessica said, a brief smile of her own crossing her face. “Me, too.”

She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to—and weirdly enough, she didn’t. There was no reason to. It hadn’t been terrible. She wouldn’t mind doing it again.

All in all, that went better than it probably had any right to.


	2. Side A, Track 2

It took Matt two weeks to ask her out again.

It wasn’t shyness that did it. They both got busy at about the same time. Matt was _still_ busy by the time he asked, but not so busy that he couldn’t take a few hours in the evening. Not long. Nothing too involved. She’d probably prefer it that way, anyway.

“I have a proposal,” Matt said when she answered the phone.

“Is there punching involved?” Jessica replied in a bored-sounding drawl. “Because if there is, you’re on your own.”

“How about food and some fresh air?”

“You have my attention. Keep talking.”

“I’ve been cooped up in my office all day, talked to one person, and I’m going to start crawling the walls if I can’t get out of here. So what about I bring the food and we meet at the park? Eat and complain about our respective jobs?”

“Sure, why not? You want to meet here or at the park?”

“I’ll meet you at your place. I could use the walk. Five o’clock?”

“Sure. See you then.”

Matt was never more grateful for the promise of a reprieve than he was in that moment. It felt like he was slogging through mud trying to get this case together. Foggy was feeling it, too. He _sounded_ miserable when Matt walked to his office to check on him: “Remind me again why we’re doing this?”

“The betterment of society?” Matt smiled apologetically. “Let me guess, you’re thinking about how your mom wanted you to be a butcher?”

“I’ll admit, pickle jars with my name on them are sounding pretty good right about how.” Foggy groaned, his joints creaking as he stretched. “Can we mutually agree to take a break? At the same time, so we won’t have to do that _No, you leave the office first_ thing?”

“I was going to suggest that. Five o’clock? Carve out an hour, hour and a half?”

“Sounds good. But I’m gonna need more coffee.” Foggy stood up, a motion that generated more creaks and clicks. “Hey, who was that on the phone?”

“Oh, uh…Jessica.”

“Jones? Is something…”

“No, no, nothing is going on. And if there were, _she_ wouldn’t be the one calling me. It’d be Danny. Maybe Luke, but definitely not Jessica.”

“Does she need to be busted out of prison again?”

“No. I think she has Hogarth for that, anyway.”

“Correction: she has Hogarth’s _lackeys_ for that,” Foggy said. He walked past Matt to the small closet/coffee room near the door. “That was your punishment if you pissed her off. Jessica Duty. Or so I heard. Jones was kind of inactive while I was working there. Hey, what’s up with that?” The smell of coffee filled the air as Foggy opened the container. “I mean, not that I’m ungrateful. I hear she’s kind of a handful.”

Matt almost objected, but even he had to admit it was true. He liked Jessica, a lot, but she _was_ kind of a handful. “I think she was trying to work some stuff out,” Matt said. “Pure conjecture on my part. She doesn’t tell me much.”

Foggy dropped the matter of Jessica after that. Matt was grateful—he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to dodge the issue of why Jessica called for too long. Not that he wanted to dodge, but he wasn’t sure he could _explain_ just yet. _Yeah, me and Jessica Jones decided to give dating a shot, except all we’ve done is get drinks at Josie’s. She kicked my ass at pool. That’s the whole relationship so far, but she agreed to go out with me once, and now we’re going to have dinner in the park, so that might mean something, right?_

That was a conversation he was waiting to have until he knew what the relationship was. He definitely wasn’t putting it off because he didn’t think Foggy would approve.

Definitely not.

They spent the new few hours too focused on the case for Matt to really dwell on the thought. By the time they called it quits, he was too _tired_ to dwell on it. Foggy was on the phone with Marci as he stepped out of the office; that didn’t stop Matt from waiting until his friend was out of earshot before calling Jessica. “What were you thinking for dinner?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You want to get pizza? I think there’s a dollar place between us and the park.”

“There’s definitely a dollar slice place between us and the park.” It was one of those places that Matt didn’t eat at too often, but knew of because he walked by it on the way to Fogwell’s. The cheese smell was very distinctive. “I should be there in five.”

“Text me when you get there. And for the love of God, don’t try to climb in through my window. You’ll step on something and I am not letting us make a habit out of you using my window.”

The second part was fair. The first part… “Why would I step on something?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

That couldn’t meant any number of things. _Broken glass_ was his first thought, followed by _files_. He was familiar with the way that re-organization could devolve into _leaving everything lying around on the floor_. He hoped it was the latter.

He texted Jessica once he was at the apartment. She didn’t come out the front door; despite her admonishment about not taking the window, from the sound of it, she’d climbed _out_ her window. “Can’t get the door open?” Matt asked as she walked out of the alley.

“Actually, I’m avoiding someone. She’s been waiting in the halls and I don’t want to deal. Hey, do you know anyone who needs a…” She snapped her fingers as she fell into step next to Matt. “A chest? One of those chests old ladies keep blankets in?”

 “I don’t…think so? Why do _you_ have one?” Matt’s lips pulled into a teasing smile. “You aren’t using the barter system now too, are you?”

“God, no. Someone else was moving out, they didn’t want it, it was blocking up the hall so I just…took it. Figured I could sell it or keep files in it or something. It was easier than dumpster-diving.” Matt chuckled, an action that elicted a nudge from Jessica. “Don’t tell me Mr. Law School never dumpster dove for furniture.”

“No, no, I did. Fun memories there.” Never anything with cloth on it, the smell never came out, but he could still remember the mismatched chairs and that rickety coffee table they had to prop up with a stack of papers. “And Goodwill. God, it felt like everything we got from that place smelled like cigarettes. Or booze. Or both.”

Jessica snorted. “Or weed. Hang on.” There were footsteps coming close to them; Jessica stopped to address the person walking by. “Robyn’s on the warpath. I’d keep walking.”

“Wh-“ _Oh_ , he knew that voice. Malcolm. Matt didn’t know him well enough to pick him out of a crowd just yet. He had a feeling he _should_ get to know Malcolm. He was one of the few people Jessica let in. “What _happened?_ ”

“Fuck if I know. Just be careful.”

“Okay.” Malcolm took a few steps away before stopping. “Everything okay with you two?”

“We’re fine,” Matt said immediately. “No punching, I promise.”

“What he said,” Jessica replied.

“…okay.” That was definitely a suspicious tone, though Matt couldn’t tell how. Did he think they were lying about the whole _no punching_ thing, or was that the same tone he’d used when he’d been suspicious about Matt’s reasons for visiting Jessica? “Text me when you’re heading back, I’ll let you know if Robyn is still in the halls.”

“Thanks, Malcolm.”

They parted ways after that, but there was one question Matt was left with. “Who’s _Robyn?_ ” Matt asked.

“She lives in the apartment above mine. She’s crazy.” Jessica’s tone was dismissive, but dismissive with the slightest hint of…regret, maybe? “You’ve probably heard her stomping around.”

Now that she mentioned it, he _had_ heard heavy footfalls a few times when he’d come over. “Do _any_ normal people live in your apartment?”

“Probably not. Crossing.” That was the only warning he got before veered into the road. Lucky him, he was indirectly trained to be careful for a curb when he heard that word. “Lets me blend in and the rent is cheap. Can’t complain too much. What about you? Living around the normies can’t make keeping your dual identity secret easy.”

“My apartment has thick walls.” That and the fact that his neighbors kept to themselves was probably the only thing that had kept him from being evicted at this point. “You know I used to live a few streets over from here? I think I got beat up on this street once.””

Jessica snorted noisily, perhaps caught off-guard by the suddenness and frankness of the confession. “Before or after you got blinded?”

“Both.”

“ _Both?!_ Jesus, Murdock, whose corn flakes did you piss in that they beat you up when you were _blind?”_

“Nate Hackett.” The name flew out of Matt’s mouth almost instantly. He was a bit embarrassed that he still remembered after twenty years, but _Jesus_ , that kid. “Him and his goon friends. I was kind of a bookworm, not too social to begin with…add on that my dad kept me hitting the books most of the time instead of doing sports or whatever it was the cool kids were doing and I was a perfect loner to pick on. I brought some of it on myself, though. I was a smartass.”

“ _No_ , really?” Jessica’s voice was pure sarcasm, not even bothering to sound fake shocked. “Never would’ve guessed. What happened to Nate Hackett?”

“No idea. I lost track of him after…” What he was about to say died in his throat; Matt course-corrected before the situation got too uncomfortable. “…after I started living in the group home. New school, new kids, new bullies to deal with.”

“What were _their_ names?”

“I…” This time, Matt did have to think about it. “Shit, I don’t know.”

Jessica whistled quietly. “Damn, you must’ve _really_ hated Nate Hackett.”

She wasn’t wrong. Matt hadn’t actually thought about Nate Hackett since he was a teenager. But he still remembered the kid’s name, and everything he’d done on top of that. Every tossed can, every punch and shove. One memory stood out.

“He called my dad a coward,” Matt admitted. “Said he was working for the mob. That was…a week before, uhm…” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Jessica could probably guess. “I think that was the last time I saw him.”

Jessica hummed slightly. “Kids are fucking monsters,” she said finally.

He wished he could disagree, but he really couldn’t. “It’s easier to take your problems out on other people at that age, I guess.” Objectively, he knew a lot of bullies were just powerless kids trying to regain some control. That didn’t make what they did right, but he understood the impulse. His coping methods had involved learning martial arts from a blind dick and isolating himself. “What about you? I can’t really picture anyone messing with you, even as a kid.”

“A few people tried,” Jessica said. She sounded flippant, but not in a minimizing way. Whatever bullies she’d faced just seriously didn’t mean anything to her. “I pretended to put a hex on someone in middle school, then I switched schools when I was fourteen. The kids there didn’t try to rough you up, but they were _bitchy_. Rich kids, you know?”

He didn’t, not really, but based on some of the rich _adults_ he’d known, Matt could make a good guess. “That sounds pretty bad. How do you pretend to put a hex on someone?”

“Tie basil leaves and some pigeon feathers from the park into a bundle with some twine, wear all black, throw the bundle at their head and scream gibberish.”

Matt cracked up immediately. Jessica nudging him along jarred him out of it for the most part. It wasn’t _that_ funny, but his mind had formed a vivid picture of the scene. Jessica, in his head, looked like the girl who used to sit two rows behind him in elementary school and who’d gotten in trouble for biting some boy. A clone of Nate Hackett shrieked and flailed as the bundle of herbs and feathers smacked him in the face. Matt wished he could’ve been there. He would’ve gotten a kick out of it at that age. “Did you get in trouble?” he asked.

“I got in-school suspension for like, a day. A couple of moms thought I was a real witch. Worth it, though. He never bothered me again.”

“Nice.” Matt could smell food in the distance; his stomach growled in response. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “I should’ve thought of that. The nuns probably would’ve pitched a fit, though.”

“You telling me you didn’t find ways to piss them off anyway?”

“…I plead the fifth.”

Jessica chuckled quietly—a quick, sardonic _heh_ —before gently tapping his arm and stopping. “Okay, maybe you can settle something for me,” she said as the sound of a door bell rattled near them. “Does the tap water really change how the dough tastes?”

“You know, I don’t actually know?” Matt stepped inside the store, letting the smell of dough and cheese wash over him. “You’re asking a guy who doesn’t have much of a point of reference for places that don’t use New York tap water. I don’t think I’ve ever bought pizza that wasn’t made on the island of Manhattan.”

“Have you ever left Manhattan, period?”

“…once? I think? For a field trip.”

“ _Jesus_.”

“Why would I leave? Everything I need is right here.”

“You know there are other places in the world, right? And the crime rate is lower. And they don’t drop aliens on your shit.”

“Don’t forget the Hulk. I can pay.”

“I’m not arguing with that.”

The lines weren’t too long; if Matt had to guess, they’d beaten out any meal rushes by a narrow margin. Jessica ended up carrying both slices on the way to the park, because juggling your meal and a cane was hard even for him. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far to the park, and they were able to find an empty bench quickly. At first they were content to sit in silence and eat their pizza, but suddenly…

“It’s so fucking weird that they let the Hulk on the Avengers,” Jessica said suddenly.

“ _I know!_ ” Matt said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. Jessica’s sudden spiking heartbeat said she hadn’t expected that response. He tried to dial it down when he continued the thought. “I mean…I’m sure there’s more to that situation than we know, seeing how Ross was involved, but…”

“You don’t like our esteemed Secretary of Defense?”

“I have never liked him and he was just as responsible for damage to Harlem as the Hulk. Or that other Hulk. What were they calling him?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Pink Hulk?”

Matt nearly choked on his pizza. “ _Shit_ , was he really pink?!”

“He was like…your skin colored. And spiky, I think. I don’t really remember.” He heard creaking leather and wood as Jessica adjusted her position on the bench. “See, at least when w-when _I_ committed destruction of public property I only wrecked one city block. And fixed the earthquakes while I was at it.”

Matt noticed the correction, and definitely appreciated it. He doubted anyone was listening to their conversation, but he’d also rather not risk it. “That’s true.”

“I still can’t believe the cops weren’t on me for that. I mean…” She paused to take a bite and finished the thought around a mouthful of pizza. “ …not that I’m ungrateful or anything…Jeri never did tell me if she swung something.”

“She didn’t have to swing anything. I don’t think the cops wanted to dig any deeper into it than they had to. It was pretty weird.”

“ _Pretty weird._ ” She snorted quietly. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Undead ninjas, dragon bones, his ex-girlfriend coming back from the dead… _pretty weird_ was an understatement. It had been a lot for Matt to handle—he couldn’t begin to imagine what it must’ve been like for Jessica or Luke, who had _no_ damn idea what was going on. Matt toyed with his pizza crust as the memories of those few days raced through his head. Graveyard dirt, blood on his lips, that strange heavy smell in the tunnels under Midland Circle. Orchids and a sluggish heartbeat.

“…do you think it’s actually over?” he asked quietly. “Do you think…” _Did we get them?_ He’d been trying not to think about it because there wasn’t anything he could _do_ about it, and avoiding getting trapped in spirals of catastrophic thinking was something he’d been working on. But the thought still occurred to him sometimes. That it might not be over. Elektra was still out there, maybe the others were too… _I should’ve asked Brett how many bodies they found, shit…_

“If it’s not over, we’ll deal with it,” Jessica said suddenly, jarring Matt from his thoughts. She’d moved closer since his mind started wandering, her knee gently but firmly pressing against his. It was grounding—nice. “Right?”

It took him a moment to really register what she’d said. But once he had…

 _You said we,_ he wanted to say, but instead he just smiled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

They’d done it once, and they could do it again. Or at least, that was what he’d keep telling himself to keep the anxiety at bay. Knowing that Jessica seemed to mean it helped.

_Always good to know who your friends are._


	3. Side A, Track 3

Matt Murdock came in three modes.

1) Business Matt. Variations on the same theme of dark suit, white shirt, dark tie, sometimes red if he was feeling adventurous. The most common Matt.

2) Daredevil. No explanation needed, except “looks like an asshole.”

3) Casual Matt, AKA 3 a.m. Matt because the only time she’d seen Matt in anything but modes 1 or 2 was when he’d been at the Laundromat at 3 a.m. Also known as his homeless look.

When he showed up on the roof with two plastic bags, he was somewhere between look three and the black mask variant of look two. “Turkey club for Jessica Jones,” Matt said, holding one of the bags out to her. “Have I missed anything?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jessica tore into the sandwich immediately. It was amazing how hungry you could get sitting on your ass and doing nothing. Though that might also be because she’d forgotten to eat lunch. And had two spoons of peanut butter and lukewarm coffee for breakfast. “The guy’s not here yet. Side chick’s putting on makeup. It’s looking like a night in, so we won’t have to go anywhere.”

Matt settled down next to her and pulled his own sandwich out of a bag. “Put some candles up here and it’s almost like a rooftop restaurant.”

“A rooftop restaurant with spying?”

“What, you’ve never eavesdropped on other people at restaurants?”

“…okay, you’ve got me there.” All the time, most of her life. Nosy-ass Jessica Jones. “Things all quiet at the office?”

“Not really, but that’s life as the only low-cost attorney in Hell’s Kitchen.” She couldn’t see Matt’s sandwich in the low light, but it smelled like an Italian sub. “I miss doing pro bono work.”

“That crushing feeling of mounting debt do it for you, Murdock?” Jessica asked dryly.

As always, Matt wasn’t offended. He just chuckled. “No, it just…felt more honest? I know, I know, I’m working at probably less than I should be in the name of helping these people, there’s nothing dishonest about charging for my services, but…”

Jessica sighed and threw a bit of crumpled-up wrapper at Matt’s face. He dodged it easily. “Think about it this way,” she said as she double-checked the window. Side Chick was still putting on makeup. “You can’t help anyone if you’re broke and homeless. The money’s so that you can keep helping people. And, y’know…” She hefted her sandwich with her free hand. “Eat sandwiches on the roof with me.”

“That’s fair. I wouldn’t want to give _that_ up.” She heard rustling paper; Matt’s next comment came from behind a mouthful of sandwich. “Which apartment?”

“Third floor, second window from the right.”

“And we’re really only here so you can get pictures of someone cheating on his wife with this woman?”

“Like I said, you do what you have to so you avoid being broke and homeless. You hear anyone coming?”

“No, but I can tell you she likes Madonna.”

 _Yeah, that tracks_. Jessica was surprised Matt didn’t ask why he was there. She didn’t really need him for anything like this. Even if something went wrong, she could handle it on her own. Maybe he’d worked out that the whole thing was a pretense for them to get food together again and he was being all considerate and not calling her out on it.

If that was it, on the one hand, fuck him for figuring it out. On the other hand, he was a quick study for not bringing it up and she couldn’t be _too_ pissed.

“Do you ever wonder why people don’t just get a divorce?” Matt asked suddenly.

“Keeping secrets gets them off.” She was pretty sure that was the whole thing. “It’s like some kind of weird porno situation. Spices things up or whatever.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Good Catholic or no good porn for the blind?”

“Both,” he said dryly. Jessica snorted noisily. “I don’t think I can talk shit about anyone’s relationships, anyway. I don’t have a great track record.”

That tracked, too, seeing how the only girlfriend of his Jessica knew about was now running around somewhere as an undead ninja. “Is that a warning?” she asked.

“No,” Matt replied, a bit too quickly. Jessica glanced his way. If he was trying to be subtle about his discomfort, he was failing pretty bad. The fact that he was very deliberately tilting his head away from her so she wouldn’t read the visible half of his face was a pretty big giveaway. “I’m…trying to be better about things.”

 _Shit_ , he was bad at keeping a handle on his moods. The sad thing was she was pretty sure he was trying really hard to hide how defensive and nervous he was, but it was still obvious. Jessica knew pointing it out would just make him feel worse, so instead she deflected. “I think most people have shit track records. They just lie about it. At least you’re honest,” she said as she watched the woman move from her bedroom and to the next room over. “You’re probably the wrong person to ask this, but why the _fuck_ don’t people close their windows? Jesus, it’s like they’re asking to get caught.”

Matt’s reply was delayed—a pretty blatant fumble in his efforts to brush off his moodiness, but she wasn’t going to call him out on that, either. “They probably forget. That or they figure no one’s looking. Most people don’t.” She heard paper tearing as Matt started on the sandwich wrapper. “That’s how we get away with the shit we do.”

Jessica hummed in agreement and took another bite of her sandwich.

The guy finally showed up once the sandwich was done. “About time,” Jessica muttered as she reached for her camera. “Let me know if either of them says anything interesting, okay?”

“Please don’t make me play-by-play narrate their flirting.”

“I said _interesting_ , not _inane_.” She got a few shots of the initial lip-lock. Hopefully the wife who’d hired her wouldn’t go all crazy when she saw these—or at least, wouldn’t go all crazy on Jessica. She didn’t give a shit about the husband. _That’s right, step closer to the window…smile, assholes_ …

“Wait,” Matt whispered. He was suddenly at Jessica’s side, one hand resting on her shoulder. “Wait, wait…”

“ _What?_ ”

“He’s nervous. I think he’s going to break it off.”

“You’re _kidding_. For real this time or is this another crazy potential drug smuggling deal?”

“No, no, this one’s for real. His heart’s racing like crazy and he sounds nervous.”

“…twenty bucks says she decks him.”

Matt made a choking sound that she assumed was him trying not to laugh out loud. “ _Jesus_ …shh, shh, hang on.” Matt kept his hand hovering near her shoulder—close enough that it felt like it was touching, even though she knew it wasn’t. Jessica pushed past the slight twist the proximity made her feel—nothing sentimental, she just didn’t like being crowded by _anyone_ —and watched what was happening through the camera. She took a few shots while she was at it, chronicling the man speaking while the woman listened. Her back was to the camera, so Jessica couldn’t tell what she was feeling. That was what she had Matt for.

“He’s breaking it off,” Matt whispered. He sounded like he was whispering at the movies. “Oh, yeah, she’s not happy. _Oh_ …”

Not even a second after Matt visibly grimaced, the woman started swinging. “Called it,” Jessica said casually as she kept watching.

“Is she going for the eyes? And…” Laughter bubbled up in Matt’s voice. “Are you photographing this?”

“Hey, that’s what I’m being paid for. And who knows? This might save his marriage.” Probably not, but it might be a good consolation prize for the wife to see her cheating husband getting wailed on by the mistress. Eventually, both of them vanished out of sight from the window. “What’s going on?”

“He’s leaving, I think. She’s really pissed.” Matt grimaced. “Should we be worried?”

“Unless you hear her pull a gun? Nah. He had this coming.”

Matt’s grimace turned into a smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

That didn’t stop him from hovering on the edge of the building, as if he was worried she _would_ pull a gun. Jessica would’ve told him to calm down and get back from there but she was still waiting for the day when one of her clients would try to murder the spouse in question.

_Is it bitchy to wonder if Matt’s shit luck will rub off on me and make tonight the night it happens?_

It probably was, but she doubted he’d mind.

It didn’t matter in the end, anyway; the guy left the apartment nursing what looked like a few cuts on his face. Side Chick didn’t even follow him out of the building. Jessica took a few more shots of his speed-walk of shame and sighed. “Hey, she’s still under obligation to pay me even if he rats himself out, right?” she said.

“Did you sign a contract?”

“I’m not an amateur, Murdock.”

“Then you’re good.” Matt finally moved away from the edge of the roof and sat down heavily, picking up the bag with what was left of his sandwich. “So, that’s it, then?”

“That’s it for this case.” And if he thought she didn’t hear the note of hesitation-slash-disappointment in his voice, and that she hadn’t figured out what that might mean, he was a bigger idiot than he looked like in that outfit. “I’ll probably give the client a head’s up. If she wants to see the pictures tonight, I’ll go, but…” Jessica checked her clock. “She might be one of those weirdos who turns in early.”

“People like that really exist? How do they live with having their shit together?” Jessica snorted in response. She saw a flash of teeth as Matt smile before speaking again: “I mean, I have a few beers stashed on my roof if you want to put off dealing with pissed-off New York housewives.”

Again: if he thought she didn’t hear the hint of hesitation in his voice, then he was a bigger idiot than he looked.

She weighed her options. The night didn’t feel _too_ weird yet (aside from the inevitable weird of hanging out with a guy in a hoodie and a mask on a roof top at pushing midnight on a weekday). She could probably stretch things out before it got too weird.

“I mean, I never say no to free beer,” Jessica said. Even with half his face covered, he still couldn’t hide his emotions; his shoulders straightened up at the words, moving out of the closed-off slump they’d been in. “Is it far?”

“No, it’s not too far.” He was on his feet shockingly fast, as if he was worried she’d change her mind if he didn’t get a move on. “Just a few jumps across the way.”

“Let me call the client first, see what she wants.”

Turned out the client was awake, but didn’t need Jessica. She didn’t scream, but she said _hold on to those pictures, I want to hear what he has to say first_ with such coldness in her voice that Jessica wondered for half a second if this woman was related to Jeri. Her husband (possibly soon to be ex-husband) was a dead man one way or another, that was for sure. That left her free to follow Matt and his bullshit flips to his roof. As far as roofs went, it wasn’t bad. Nice view of the city. And there was beer, which helped.

“…you know, you’re the first person who’s had my beer without complaining it tastes like piss,” Matt said when she was done chugging half the can.

Every time, _every time_ she thought she was used to his weird conversation starters. “Have you tasted the shit I usually drink?” Jessica said. She glanced at the can. She wasn’t a connoisseur or anything (beer wasn’t really her thing, but free was free), but this wasn’t the kind of brand she saw at the corner store. “Doesn’t all beer taste like piss?”

Matt laughed. “I guess. German beer just tastes like piss with fewer ingredients so it’s easier to swallow.” He sipped his own and added, “Craft beer is disgusting, for the record. I don’t care what anyone says.”

“You don’t have to convince me.” Jessica lifted her can. “Here’s to _not_ drinking pretentious asshole juice.”

“Amen.”

Good to know they could agree on the important things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: [I made a meme for this one, too.](http://thatlastpartsthecatholicism.tumblr.com/post/173214786024/aka-youre-lucky-you-have-a-nice-ass-murdock)

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at screechthemighty to see me yell about random shit and periodically give writing updates (if I remember to). The tag for this fic is "reference: let's be alone together." I also talk about Overwatch a lot so that's a thing.


End file.
